


World Lampshade

by meteor_mirage



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-25 14:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meteor_mirage/pseuds/meteor_mirage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scootaloo and Tenor Heart vary from day to day. One day one might be bouncing off the walls with energy, while the other is just along for the ride. Another the two might stay in bed because one doesn't have the energy to leave. Despite this, their love for each other never changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

        Scootaloo stared into the darkness as music blared around her, the utter intensity of the sound shaking the bed she was laying on slightly. She buried herself deep under the multiple blankets that piled on top of her, the only things being revealed to the world being the very end of her muzzle and her forelegs. Said forelegs wrapped around a balled up bunch of blankets in hopes that they would bring her some form of comfort. 

        In a way it did, as she nearly fell asleep before the loud guitar solos woke her up. She still couldn’t gather the energy to turn it down. Maybe later. If she felt like it. 

        Her room was filled with the scent of green tea, the source of which was cooling on her night stand. It had been placed there not too long ago by Fluttershy, her surrogate mother/sisterishthing. Scootaloo hadn’t touched it yet and probably wouldn’t for another few hours. She wanted to, but she just wasn't feeling like moving that few inches would be worth it. 

        She was waiting, a bit unconsciously, for someone to show up. Not a general someone, of course, as Fluttershy had already attempted to coax her from her bed with food. She was waiting for her someone. They hadn’t quite worked out the terminology, but she was sort of willing to call him her boyfriend.

        She stared through the darkness and at the picture she had taped to the side of her nightstand, she wanted to wake up near him, even when he was away on business. The picture was taken before their first date, Fluttershy nearly demanded that the two pose for it, so the they were decked in their finest. 

        The stallion was wearing a suit that he’d had his sister make. It was just a standard black and white affair, but the red bowtie helped liven it up just a bit. His curly, purple and pink mane was straightened and pulled back, something that Scootaloo couldn’t help but yell at him for, and his white coat was almost so well washed that it shined. Under him, Scootaloo had written one word: “Tenor,” along with a smiley face. 

        She, on the other hand, was wearing a simple white dress that she was given (read: had forced upon) by Fluttershy. Needless to say, she didn’t quite enjoy it. She would have prefered something purpler, but she couldn’t work up the courage to ask Tenor’s sister for anything relating to the date. 

        Scootaloo cracked a small smile. It was definitely her favorite picture for a reason, whether that reason was the awkward way Tenor wrapped his hoof around her, despite her being a good bit taller than he was, or it could be how embarrassed she looked for even being seen in a dress. Ah, how times change. Three years can really change some ponies.

        After that horrid excuse of a date, a night that ended with a rodeo clown and a wet noodle, the two had multiple other dates and changed gradually. Scootaloo cut her mane and Tenor agreed to never straighten his again. Tenor got noticed for his piercing vocals and Scootaloo pierced her ears, something Fluttershy passive aggressively disagreed with. And, thankfully, Tenor, ever the late bloomer, finally got tall enough to kiss Scootaloo without her leaning down to close the distance. And then some.

        There was a knock on the door, stopping Scootaloo from reminiscing before she had any fun. Before she could open her mouth, the door was pushed open.

        “Sorry I’m late,” the intruding stallion sighed, “Rarity has been running me ragged as of late,” he approached the bed slowly, pulling back most every layer of Scootaloo’s blanket fort with his magic, “I did rush though. Once I figured that you were feeling under the weather.”

        Scootaloo groaned dramatically, though she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face, “It’s nearly twelve, isn’t it?” she said, her voice gravely and hoarse.

        Tenor ran his hoof through his mane, chuckling softly. “Stop sleeping so late, and maybe I’ll be able to get here earlier,” he sat down on the edge of the bed before picking up the ignored cup of green tea with his magic, offering it over to Scootaloo.

        She sighed loudly and forced herself to a sitting position, letting the blanket fall off of her, and accepted the drink. She drank it slowly, and as she did Tenor undid the green bowtie around his neck. He hated to discard it, it matched his eyes so well, but he threw it to the floor as it didn’t have much use at that point. 

        Scootaloo finished her drink, set her cup down where Tenor found it, then flopped back down on the bed. She pulled the blanket back over her body, leaving her face out for once.

        “Feeling better?” Tenor asked as he slid off of the bed, trotting over to the other side and climbing in.

        Scootaloo sighed happily as he wrapped a hoof around her. “Just starting to. How long are you gonna stay?”

        Tenor smiled and pulled his mare ever so slightly closer; close enough that he had his nose pressed against the back of her neck. “I’ll be staying until I can make you feel better, even if it’s just a slight bit.”

        “Well when you put it that way,” Scootaloo started slowly, shifting her position slightly to press against Tenor more, “I feel awful, just completely terrible, and I probably won’t feel better for a few hours.”

        “Child’s play,” Tenor muttered as he nuzzled against her neck, “How many hours do we have? Ten-ish?”

        “Try twenty,” Scootaloo responded with a smirk, “Red doesn’t have me scheduled until tomorrow. It’s not quite the ‘infini-cuddles’ you’ve been looking for, but it’s something.”

        “A very good something, I might add,” Tenor might have added, right after kissing the back of Scootaloo’s neck, “I love you, doll.”

        “Can’t quite kiss you right now, but I love you too.”

        Tenor groaned happily, not wanting to even bother with words. The two shifted into prime sleeping positions. Tenor lay on his back with one arm wrapped around Scootaloo as she lay her head on his chest, wrapping a foreleg around him.

        They lay there for a few minutes, calmly enjoying the others’ presence and waiting for the embrace of sleep. The tight grip that had eluded Scootaloo for so long, something she was going to take back by force. She needed this and wasn’t going to give up until- 

        “I can’t sleep,” Scootaloo groaned, completely disregarding her dreams, “You’re still too soft to use as a pillow,” she poked his, rather chubby, stomach to demonstrate, and it gave little to no resistance.

        Tenor nodded, “Yeah, you’re not the most comfortable either, darling,” he pulled back slightly, rolling onto his side and moving to eye level with Scootaloo, “Do you have any other ideas?”

        Scootaloo smiled, wrapped a foreleg around him again, and pulled herself close enough that their noses touched, “This is good,” she said before kissing her boyfriend.

        It was a soft, gentle kiss, neither one wanting to push it any farther, that lasted a little under thirty seconds. Tenor was the first to pull back, smiling widely.

        “Very good,” he said softly, “We should do this more often.”

        Scootaloo shrugged, “It’s kind of hard to do when you get all paranoid,” 

        “Or when you’re bouncing off the walls, just waiting to get outside,” Tenor countered with slight venom. 

        Scootaloo nodded in silent agreement, “Let’s try to do this more. Maybe then you won’t have such an attitude.” 

        Tenor’s expression softened, “You know I love you.”

        “If you loved me, then you’d stop talking so I can get some sleep,” she let out a small yawn, much like everyone who says they’re tired, “Not that I don’t like you, of course.”

        Tenor said nothing, but pouted and whimpered like a sad puppy. While overused by him, it was still quite effective in throwing Scootaloo off.

        Scootaloo sighed happily, her smile growing larger, “You’re such a dork,” she planted a small kiss on Tenor’s nose, “But sleep is needed. I worked two night shifts in a row, and I need what’s left of this day off. Not gonna waste it like the last one.”

        “It wasn’t that bad,” Tenor said very unconvincingly, “Could’ve been worse.”

        “I couldn’t fly,” 

        “And I sounded like a girl,” 

        There was an unspoken ‘again’ in both of their sentenced, right after the comma, that they both understood.

        “But,” Scootaloo sighed moments later, “It could’ve been worse. I mean, look at Alain.”

        Tenor chuckled softly, though there was a slight edge of bitterness to it, “He seemed to enjoy it. The beautiful thing about normal people, I suppose.” 

        “Normal’s boring though,” Scootaloo said, “I mean, look at us.”

        “A compelling argument,” Tenor said with a smile, “It was still an awful joke though.”

        “Joak,” Scootaloo corrected.

        “I’m not having this conversation again,” Tenor sighed, “I thought you wanted me to shut up so you could catch up on sleep.”

        Scootaloo shrugged, “Not tired anymore. Just hungry.”

        “Would you like to go pick up some lunch?” He asked.

        She thought for a few seconds, then scooted down slightly to press her muzzle against Tenor’s chest, “Maybe in a few minutes, “she said, slightly muffled by chest fluff. She snuggled close to him and closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh. As time passed, her breathing grew slower and her grip around Tenor grew slack.

        Tenor rolled his eyes, “So much for lunch, I guess,” he looked down at Scootaloo, a loving smile edging its way onto his face, “Dinner doesn’t sound too bad though. I’m not hungry right now anyway.” He gingerly wrapped a foreleg around his mare and closed his eyes, following her lead.


	2. Chapter 2

Months later, Tenor stumbled into a café that sat in the middle of Ponyville. The bell above the door jingled as it was pushed open, startling him severely and, moments later, embarrassing him. He pulled the hood of the loose fitting, black jacket over his face to cover the blush now lighting it up. 

“Hey Tenor!” The stallion behind the counter exclaimed, countering the calm, cool atmosphere of the café almost immediately. The grey stallion smiled widely at his friend and waved him over. 

Tenor approached slowly, not exactly having the energy to deal with this today, but forcing himself to anyway. “Hey, Rumble. What’s got you so peppy today?”

In response, Rumble’s smile grew ever so slightly wider as he bounced up and down, his poofy black mane even more so, “It’s Pip! He’s taking me out to Canterlot tonight!”

Tenor smiled, though it was small and almost unnoticeable, “Congrats,” he said, trying his hardest to be enthusiastic, “Any idea why?”

Rumble stopped his bouncing almost immediately, running a hoof through his mane, “No?” He admitted with a frown. “Maybe he’s making up for our anniversary, or something.”

Tenor thought back to a week prior, a day when Pipsqueak knocked on his door in the pouring rain to ask for help picking out a diamond bracelet, and then shrugged. “Maybe. He probably still feels bad about it.”

Rumble nodded, “Still not his fault.”

Tenor made a small noise of agreement, and then sat in silence for a few seconds.

“So what do you want today?” Rumble asked, breaking the silence.

Tenor sighed through his nose with a smile, “Do you even have to ask?”

“Comin’ right up,” Rumble said with chuckle, “Just sit down, and I’ll bring it out when it’s done.”

“Thanks.” Tenor nodded, then he slowly walked to the booth in the corner of the café. His favorite seat. 

He sat down in the seat opposite the wall and wasted no time in staring out the window. His favorite pastime. 

As it was the early morning and the clouds were dark and foreboding, not many were outside. But Tenor did see Spike, a friend of sorts, outside with a bundle of flowers, nervously shuffling about like a colt on his first date. Tenor had been told stories, though he’d never admit who told him, of Spike’s crush on Twilight, so he sat there for a few seconds just silently applauding Spike’s courage. 

And then Spike ran off moments later. In the opposite direction of the library. Tenor shook his head with a sigh, now disappointed in his friend. 

Rumble set down the cup of hot chocolate in front of Tenor as he sat down opposite him with a cup of very sweet and very caffeinated coffee. With five sugars and three shots of espresso, they both knew that Rumble wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

They enjoyed their drinks for a second, sipping simultaneously. Rumble set down his drink, the smiled at Tenor who was obviously enjoying his drink, as he downed most of it right then. His smile fell when he finally saw what Tenor was wearing. An ash-grey hoodie that was loose fitting and featured some band that they, along with their friends, used to like when they were fifteen.

“You still have that thing?” He asked, motioning to the hoodie in question.

Tenor had a moment of confusion as he set his cup down, finally done with it, then a second of realization as he looked down. He looked back up with a shrug. “Yeah, why?” 

“I thought that you’d have given it back to Pip by now.”

“Oh,” Tenor smirked, “Is someone jealous?”

Rumble’s face lit up as he stammered, “N-no! He just needs a jacket ‘nd stuff. No point in buying him a new one if you already have his old one.” 

Tenor chuckled, absentmindedly taking the hood off so it didn’t interfere with his conversation. “I think he’s outgrown it by now. He’s twice the size of me now, for Celestia’s sake.”

“Hardly,” Rumble said with somewhat of a joking huff.

“Do you want it?” Tenor asked, “I mean, it’ll hang off of you like Winona’s collar on Uma, but Pip might think it’s cute.” 

Rumble’s eyes lit up at the mention of looking cute in front of Pip, but a stoke of thunder stopped him before he could start. He glanced out the window to see that the rain had started and picked up heavily as they talked.

He let out a small sigh, shaking his head. “Maybe later. It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Tenor nodded, “It’s kinda why I ducked in here, honestly.”

Rumble frowned and crossed his forelegs dramatically, “You mean you’re not here to see me?” He whined, “I thought you loved me.”

Tenor, fighting back a smile, put a hoof in the middle of the table and, with the most seriousness he could muster, said, “We’ve been over this before, darling. It’s not you, it’s me.”

There was a moment of silence between the two before they both cracked up laughing. It was an old joke between the two of them that goes unexplained to anyone not in their friend group. 

The door to the café flew open suddenly and Rumble, thinking it was another customer, sighed and stood up. 

A large gryphon entered quickly, cursing under his breath in some sort of foreign language. His grey fur and feathers were soaked with rain water, and the white feathers on his head, ones that he styled so well that morning, were blown about into a complete mess. He reached up and messed with them for a second before realizing that it was useless with a sigh.

Rumble smiled, realizing that he wasn’t actually dealing with a customer, not a paying one at least,. “Hey Alain,” he said as he reclaimed his seat.

The young cockerel looked over to the two stallions and smiled, waving slightly. “Hey guys,” he said as he approached the pair’s table quickly and swinging into the seat next to Tenor.

Tenor sighed as he moved to give Alain room in the booth. “Hey Alain. How have you been?”

“Better and worse,” he shrugged, “Though I’m still reeling after what you put me through yesterday.” He waggled a claw at Tenor. “Shame on you for being sick. Shame!”

“Blame Scootaloo, not me,” Tenor said, “But I will take credit for getting your girlfriend sick.”

“Hopefully not in the same way,” Alain muttered, drawing laughter from the two stallions, “But at least I did the thing. How was I, by the way?”

“Amazing,” Rumble said, “I didn’t know you could sing like that, dude!” 

Alain chuckled as his blush shined through his fur, “I wasn’t that good,” he turned to Tenor, “Was I?”

Tenor shrugged, “You were fine. Definitely a good replacement,” he gestured to himself casually, “But of course I’m the lead singer of this band, so I’m the best singer.” He let that sit for a second, then he couldn’t fight back a grin. “You were fantastic. We need to do a duet, or something. Or just let me play you off on the piano. Something.”

Alain stiffened at the thought of being in the spotlight again. “Raincheck?” He asked, though it was more of a statement than anything. “There’s a reason that I only play my bass. No one sees me.” 

Tenor shrugged again, “Suit yourself.” He looked over to Rumble who was waiting patiently for his turn, “Rumble, do you think you could get Alain some coffee? I think he needs a little something to perk him up.”

“Who’s paying?” He asked hesitantly.

Tenor dug his bit purse out of his saddle bag and tossed it onto the table. “I might as well. I did screw him over yesterday.”

“Thanks,” Alain smiled, brushing back his head feathers. He turned to Rumble, “I like my coffee black, by the way.”

Rumble sighed and stood up. “Coming right up, sir,” And then he went to his station behind the counter and went to work.

“So,” Alain said the second that Rumble was out of earshot, “I got something for you.” He reached into a small bag that he had on his back, “Might be a bit wet, but whatever. Should be fine.” He came up with two strips of, very expensive, paper and set them on the table. 

The two laminated strips of paper were full of information that Tenor honestly didn’t care about at the moment. What he did care about though was the writing in the middle. ‘Fall Out Colt’ and a date that was a few months away.

Tenor, upon realizing what these tickets were, jumped to hug Alain, now the closest thing he had to a best friend that wasn’t Scootaloo. 

“Woah woah!” Alain said as he was hugged, “We’ve been over this, dude. You’re not gay and I’m…” he let the sentence trail off, “Well you’re not gay.”

“This is a friend hug,” Tenor said, muffled by severe amounts of chest fluff, “A romance hug is completely different.” 

“Don’t give me any ideas now,” Alain muttered, wrapping his arms around Tenor, “But you’re welcome.”

Tenor broke free of the hug, though it was soft and comfortable, and looked over the tickets. “These things must have cost you a fortune.” 

Alain shrugged, trying to cooly play off the fact that his wallet would be empty for a while. “I was spending big anyway, so I decided that I’d pay you two back everything while I was at it.”

“Spending big?”

“I may or may not have bought a necklace that might be able to be used for a proposal of some sort.” He shrugged. “Maybe.”

Tenor sighed, now disappointed in his almost best friend. “Please don’t tell me that you’re going to propose.” 

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

Tenor did his best to resist slapping some sense into his friend. “A bit too soon, I think. Scoots and I have been together for almost four years, and I’ve only just brought up the topic of proposal. And that’s only in a figurative sense.”

Alain set his jaw, considering Tenor’s advice. “Well what should I do with this necklace then?”

“Save it for later.” Tenor responded. “Could be useful at some point, I guess.”

“Right.” Alain nodded, smiling in the weird way that gryphons smile. “It could work as a birthday present.”

“Coffee’s up!” Came a Rumbleish voice from afar, followed by a much more uncertain, “ ‘r something.” He set Alain’s coffee down in front of him and reclaimed his seat opposite to the two of them. 

Alain knocked the tickets onto Tenor’s lap, then descended on the coffee like the bird of prey he was the descendant of. It was, to borrow a phrase, as black as a moonless night while also being hotter and more bitter than hell itself. Alain was happily slurping his coffee as Rumble and Tenor looked on in awe, finding out that their friend didn’t actually have any taste buds after all. 

He set his cup down and wiped his beak. “Best coffee ever. I’d ask for more, but I should probably get going,” he looked out the window to see that, while damp and depressing outside, it had stopped raining. “I have a lot to think about now, and I hate thinking.” He glared at Tenor, “Thanks for that.” 

Tenor shrugged, “Just trying to help.”

“I know,” Alain smiled, “Thanks.” He stood up from the booth and brushed himself off. “Now I’ve gotta see a hen about a proposition.”

Tenor nodded. “I’ll probably have to do the same. I wish you luck.” 

“I wish you the same,” Alain nodded at Tenor, then turned to Rumble, “And I already wished Pip good luck, so I don’t need to do you.” He stuck his tongue out teasingly, then left before any questions could be asked. 

Rumble blanched, playing the words back in his mind over and over again. As he did so, Tenor slid the tickets into his bag. 

“The worst thing you can do is trust Alain,” Tenor said, trying to salvage the situation. Those hours of trying to find the perfect bracelet would not go to waste. “He’s probably just screwing with you like always.”

“You’re probably right,” Rumble sighed, “Pip isn’t observant enough for that. He probably doesn’t even know how to propose.” Tenor, despite wanting to agree heavily, only allowed himself a small nod. 

“He probably thinks marriage is something you can eat.” Tenor smiled. There was a small pause before Tenor decided to help his friend. “If he were to ask, would you say yes?”

Rumble blushed as he looked away from Tenor. He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t find the words. After a few repetitions of that, Rumble let out a large sigh. “I don’t know. I hope I would, but I just don’t know.” 

Tenor smiled. It wasn’t the worst answer he’d heard, and it was probably the most honest. “You’re going to be fine then. I’m sure that’s the kind of answer Pipsqueak would want.”

“What kind of answer would I want?” Came a voice from outside as the door to the café was pushed open.

A fairly dapper looking gent entered not long after. He wore a gray waistcoat with a white undershirt underneath, both custom fitted to fit his immense size. Around his neck was a purple tie that he’d tucked into his vest, as it was getting in the way of his panicking. 

And yet now he was calm. He slicked back his brown mane and walked over to his love, not hesitating before planting a kiss on Rumble’s nose. The two grinned widely as they spent the next few minutes nuzzling, cuddling, and planting kisses on each other, giggling playfully as Tenor attempted to look away. He attempted while also stealing glances to learn a bit on how to please Scootaloo. He gave up once the two fell back onto the booth, Rumble falling completely out of view, and Pipsqueak only appearing above because of his vast hugeness. 

The interrupting stallion pulled back, a large and confident smirk decorating his face. “Sorry love,” he looked over to Tenor, “I had t’leave before Rumbles got his morning kiss in. Had t’make up for lost time.” 

“It’s fine,” Tenor shrugged, having learned a lot, “Honestly I’m used to it.” 

Rumble came up, a dopey grin on his face along with a blush, and wrapped his hooves around Pip. “I missed you.”

Pip wrapped a hoof around Rumble. “Missed you too, love.” He planted another kiss on Rumble’s cheek.

Tenor rolled his eyes. While cute, this sort of PDA gets annoying after a while. “Would you like me to leave?”

Pipsqueak chuckled softly. “Nah, I got somethin’ t’ask you, honestly.” 

“Shoot.” 

“I was sort’ve wonderin’ if you could do me a favour.” He said to Tenor, leaning in closer like it was a secret. “As recently it has come t’my attention that, as per usual, I’ve been neglectin’ the love of my life,” he gently prodded Rumble’s side, “That’s this one here,” he leaned in a bit closer, speakin in a hushed tone, but making sure Rumble could still hear, “And so I thought: ‘Well Pipsqueak you’ve seemed to have ruined this once again, so how do you, we, fix this?’  
“Well let me be honest when I say that it was hard. Honestly I’ve been wrackin’ my brain t’figure how to get me out of this’n.” He smiled at Tenor. “Well we both know how that turned out,” he turned to Rumble, “He doesn’t, but I’m gettin’ to that.”

“Maybe someday,” Tenor snarked, “But you seemed to have missed your train of thought completely.”

“I’m gettin’ to it!” Pip exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed, but the smile on his face betraying that. “But fine, whatever. I’m just tryin’ t’set the mood. No big deal.” With a sigh, he turned to Rumble, placing a hoof on his. “Listen. It’s no secret that I’m awful at expressin’ anything resemblin’ an emotion. We both’ve figured that out quick enough, right?” Rumble nodded, making Pip’s smile even wider. “ ‘S why I love you, honestly. You’re willin’ t’work with me.”

Rumble was completely enamored with this speech that Pip had prepared. Tenor, on the other hand, was impressed, taking notes and such, but severely bored. He knew Pip could talk, but this was ridiculous. He casually cleared his throat, letting Pip know to hurry it up just a bit.

Pipsqueak sighed, glaring at Tenor. “I would go into more detail , but someone here doesn’t care. Just know that I love you more than life itself, and such.” He kissed Rumble on the nose once again, followed by a short nuzzling session, then turned back to a confused Tenor. “Now I have somethin’ for you.” Pipsqueak pulled out an elegant blue box that opened on hinges. He slid it to Tenor without another word.

Now severely confused, Tenor took the box and opened it a bit. He saw the simple, but elegant necklace inside. It was gold, very gold to be honest as it was 18 karat, that had a chain like design up until the purple stone that hung down. This was the same necklace that he’d shown Pipsqueak when they were out shopping, the one Pip had picked out. The one Tenor had said Scootaloo would like.

Tenor looked across from him, and Pip and Rumble were both looking back, smiling. Tenor, after putting two and two together correctly, stood up and shoved the box into his bag. “You’re both dicks,” he said as he left the building, their laughter following him on his way out.


End file.
